Overcoming Hell Together
by phoward
Summary: AU. Mary survived Sherman's March but her young son was sadly killed. Cullen is blood thirsty for revenge after returning home to find his son dead & his wife violated. He goes on his mission to kill the men responsible while his wife accompanies him. When they find themselves in the Hell On Wheels railroad camp they must learn to heal & survive together in a new land.
1. Prologue: First Steps in Vengeance

This is AU (Alternate Universe) & I was nicely asked to write this by soccerfan21. It's a great idea so I'm running with it.

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**Prologue: First Steps in Vengeance**

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She sat uneasily in a chair in her hotel room. She was twirling stray curls with her finger, afraid that her husband's plan had gone wrong. She was against his plan, against him wanting to avenge the terrible wrong that had happened to her and the tragic early death of their nearly 11 year old son, she had told him that too. She closed her worrisome eyes and let her mind drift back to when her husband had announced his plan.

_After hearing what he was going to do, whether she decided to come along or not, she told him "This isn't right, it's no way to live and to honor our son's memory. You can't just hunt down all of these men, it's impossible. Honey, please, let's just forget this had ever happened; we can start up the farm again and we can have more children."_

_His reaction was exactly what she expected from that stubborn mule of a man, she knew he wouldn't budge. Not on this. His stormy eyes lighten and melted into her while he took a deep breath before explaining, "Darlin', I have to do this. I can't let them get away with this. They murdered our boy, raped and beat you, ran off the workers, destroyed our home, took our livestock, burnt our crops and the barn, they ruined everything we had!"_

_She shook her head, knowing the gentle, kind, caring, man she had known, loved, and married was being replaced with a war-damaged, tragedy-hardened, calloused shell of a man. She loved him and she knew that fighting him would get her nowhere. He was determined to do exact his plan of revenge just like he had been determined to fight for his homeland in that damned war._

She heard the creak of the door opening up and she looked over at it only to see her husband, dressed in a dark suit with a dark cloak, walk into the room with a gun on his hip. "Cullen, you do what you came here to do?"

"Yes," Cullen told his wife as he shut the door behind him, "we have to move soon."

"You got the Corporal, maybe you should stop now before you get caught and get taken from me." Mary told her husband as she looked into her eyes as he started to pack their bags.

Cullen stopped packing the bags and walked over to where his wife was sitting. He gently cupped her face with a hand and said softly, "Darlin', I won't get caught and you will never lose me, just trust me and my plan."

"Cullen, all you're going to do is kill people in reaction to what they did to me and to Mitchel but it won't change anything or bring him back." Mary just sighed and shook her head.

Cullen dropped his hand from her face and tucked a piece of her dark curls behind her ear. "Justice has to be done and the Yanks sure as hell won't do it to their own, I need to make them pay."

Mary nodded her head in agreement as he husband sweetly kissed her on the forehead before leaving her side and returning to their bags. "Fine, where are we going to now and when?" She asked, a bit nerved that they would be traveling in order for him to kill some more evil Northern officers.

"Maryland, next train in the hour." Cullen simply said as he placed the remaining garments of theirs from the wardrobe into the large bag they were using for storage.

Maryland was where a private and a lieutenant would be meeting their untimely and vengeful deaths…


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome To Hell

**Chapter 1- Welcome To Hell...Hell On Wheels That Is!**

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She sat by the window while her husband sat next to her closer to the aisle. She hated aisle seating and preferred sitting by the window since she enjoyed looking out at the scenery, her husband knew this and had no problems sitting in the aisle. He just held his head down, thinking to himself about how he was going to get a job and then get that cruel captain to complete his revenge mission. His wife gazed out the window quietly, just watching the trees and grass dance by. Two Irish immigrants, that weren't very literate, were stumbling on a newspaper article. Ironically an old article about the murder of a former Union soldier in a confessional by a crazed, false, priest.

Mary's skin began to pale as she listen to the men poorly recite the details of the murder that was published in writing. She couldn't believe that her husband had just shot someone in the eyeball in a church with witness around.

Underneath his wide brimmed hat Cullen rolled his eyes, he knew that later his wife would lecture him about the way he took the man out in a church. Well, he never told her how he was killing the men just that he was getting rid of them. His eyes diverted to his wife's direction only to see the color drain from her. As war damaged as he might be he was still concerned about his wife and her emotional reactions. "Calm down, no one knows anything more than what's in the paper." He whispered as he patted her hand.

Her response was a soft, partial smile and a nod of her head.

After hearing the men sitting in front of him bicker about the pronunciation of the word confessional Cullen decided to help them out and just say the word for them. "Confessional." He gruffly said, causing the Irishmen to fold up their paper and look at him.

Mary's eyes nearly popped out of her head at the shock of hearing that the man wasn't just shot in church but in a confessional. She honestly was shocked that her Cullen would kill a man in a church confessional, especially since before the war they had attended church services every Sunday but the war had changed him.

Mary continued to look out the window as she heard her husband and one of the Irish accented men talking about higher powers, and heaven.

"Are ye a gunslinger then?" Mary heard the ginger haired man in the bowler hat ask her husband.

Cullen shook his head with a sly grin, "No, just looking for work on the railroad."

"I'm Mickey McGinnes and this be me brother Sean." The dark haired Irish man said with a smile.

"Cullen Bohannon." Cullen gruffly told the brothers. "This here is Mary, my wife." He told them as he placed a comforting hand on Mary's shoulder.

Mary just gave out a weak smile at the Irish brothers.

"Nice to meet ye." Mickey smiled.

"Yes, nice to meet ye." Sean piped up.

Mary just smiled and nodded her head as she gracefully and gently said, "Same to you."

* * *

The crowd of people scattered about the makeshift platform as the train was stopped. Tons of people of all ages, sexes, sizes, and races were roaming about. Animals were being unloaded, livestock and poultry alike. Mr. and Mrs. Bohannon just weaved through the traffic, making a beeline towards the tent marked 'Foreman' where hiring took place. While walking amongst the chaos an explosion went off, causing dirt to fly hundreds of feet in the air and every which way.

Mary squeezed her hand around Cullen's waist, the blast fired having made her a bit frightened and reminding her of when Yankees had invaded Mississippi taking over Vicksburg and then Meridian. Cullen stood like stone, not affect by the blast fired but he tightened his grip on his beloved Mary's shoulder knowing full well deep inside her she was shaking with memories, harsh unimaginable memories, being trigged by the sound of the blast.

People took notice to the couple, a man in his late 30's and a woman in her late 20's, walking towards the Foreman's tent. It wasn't very common that many men brought a wife that looked like she could pass as a well-bred lady to the rail town camp of Hell On Wheels. The whore's whispered amongst themselves, noticing how this woman walked with a subtle grace but clearly had the deposition of a skittish baby deer; noticing how the man seemed to be one that gave off a dangerous vibe but obviously was gentle enough for the graceful and skittish woman to stay with him. The on-lookers knew the man and woman were married, gold rings were seen glimmering on their fingers and a mighty fine rock was on her finger as well. The whore's and drunkards whispered that the man must've stolen it for her cause he surely didn't look like he had money to be spending it on a rock like that.

But looks can be deceiving…if anyone in the rail town camp of Hell On Wheels, including the president of the railroad himself, knew who this couple really were they'd shit their pants!

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Her eyes went wide as she caught site of the man at the desk inside the foreman tent. Her petite hand abruptly tugged on her husband's arm, making him stop and turn his attention to her. "What's wrong, darlin'?" His gruff voice asked her in a gentle whisper.

"It's him, the captain." Mary quickly but quietly told her husband.

Cullen took a quick glance at the foreman before asking, "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, honey."

"A'ight, let's go rent a small tent for the night first. You'll stay there while I apply for a job; I can't him seeing us together. Might give me away."

Mary just nodded her head in agreement, knowing that her husband's plan was now getting more intense and even more dangerous.

* * *

They walked through a sea of small, ratty, dingy, tents looking for the lot they had rented for a month's time. Mud squished about as they walked, so thick that it sometimes rose a bit over their ankles. He paid no mind to the other occupants of the tents they passed by but she did. She noticed how grungy and dirty these people looked. It hit her like a ton of bricks, gone was her life of luxury and in was a life of dirty filth and scraping by for survival.

Her small thoughts were broken whenever her husband said, "Here's our lot."

"It's…um…nice…" She sighed with wide eyes.

His laughter was deep as he ushered his wife inside of their new home, if that's what you dared to call it.

The tent was small, barely suitable for one person let alone a couple. It was furnished with a twin sized bed, a bit snug for a couple, and a stove. No table and no chest for clothing. A few pots were in the tent. Obviously whoever had the tent beforehand didn't do too much housekeeping.

* * *

Cullen walked up to the old man, the man his wife had identified as the rapist Captain, in order to bullshit him into giving him a job. "Cullen Bohannon." He answered the question of 'name?'.

"Railroad experience?" The white haired man behind the desk asked, writing left handedly in a log book.

"None." Cullen said, causing the man to look up at him and cut eyes at him.

The man proceeded to interrogate the former Confederate on why he should be hired and upon seeing the Griswold on his hip, hearing his Southern drawl, and receiving the answer of yes when the question of slave ownership came up the foreman decided to hand out the job of freed man cut crew walking boss.

Cullen just shook his head as he followed the soulless and unmoral Captain Johnson out to the cut crew line. Just what he needed, a job being an overseer.


	3. Chapter 2: Southerner's Honor

I own nothing. Anyways the scene with Johnson & Bohannon in the bar's in here.

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**Chapter 2: Southerner's Honor**

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She was sitting on the small bed, just knitting, as she bides her time waiting for her husband to come home to their tent. She was hoping that he was alright, that the captain hadn't noticed them together before they took off to rent a tent. She couldn't help but worry, they were in a lawless land full of very sketchy people. She lifted her gaze from her knitting to the tent flap opening, revealing her husband walking in.

"Pork from the butcher." He said as he awkwardly held up a package, hoping that his wife wouldn't ask him about his day.

Putting her knitting work down and getting up to take the meat from her husband she remarked, "I presume you got a job then?"

"Mhm, as an overseer." He grunted, disdain in his voice over his new position at the work camp.

"An overseer?" Mary asked with her brow furrowing.

"Yea, you know an overseer. I'm Southern, all I'm good for." Cullen snapped, angry that his new boss had felt that way about him.

"So you're in charge of a black crew then, is what you mean?"

"Yep."

"Ah, Cullen, honey, you're a good man and they'll be glad to have you in charge of them."

Cullen shook his head at his wife as he sat at their small table while telling her moodily, "Mary, just hush right now. I'm a Southerner, a former Confederate officer; they see me as the enemy not a friend."

Mary placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, "I'm sure that once they get to know you-"

Cullen just interrupted his wife, angry that she just wasn't closing her mouth to accept his prior answers, "Ain't happening; they don't want to work for me. One says it's just like being back on a plantation."

"I'll just cook this meat for dinner." Mary said trying to bring the conversation into a different direction.

"I'm going to the Starlight after dinner." Cullen abruptly told his wife, fully aware that she wouldn't be too keen on it.

"The Starlight?" Mary asked, hoping that he wasn't talking about that bar they had passed when they arrived in town.

"The saloon, Mary, for a few drinks and rounds of poker."

"Cullen…"

* * *

It was dark and the smoke in the dimly lit saloon made the place look misty-like in a hazy way. Men surrounded a round table, shot glasses and a bottle of Corn Likker on the table. Cullen was seated at the table with Captain Johnson and a few other men. They talked about the war mostly and life before the war. Then a question was asked that would make everyone's heads turn when answered.

Cullen removed his cigar and downed a shot of whiskey; then answered the question asked with, "I gave them their freedom year 'fore the war started."

Captain Johnson's face twisted as he asked, "Are you serious."

Cullen nodded his head and place his cigar back in his mouth. "I kept them on wages."

"You are an odd duck, Bohannon." Johnson chuckled as he refilled the men's shot glasses.

"I married a Northerner, she convinced me of the evils of slavery." Cullen explained as his cigar balanced on his lips, threatening to fall."

Then after this shocking information was revealed Captain Johnson wanted to know why Cullen had fought in the war and to that Cullen grimly said "Honor." While looking a bit spaced out.

Then Captain Johnson proceeded to tease Cullen about being a Southern man with honor before asking, "And where is your wife now?"

To this all Cullen had to say was, "She's safe."

Then it seemed that subject was dropped and another was picked up.

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It was late, nearly midnight, and Mary was not pleased that her husband wasn't home yet. She lay in bed alone, worrying about her husband in the saloon. She knew that her husband had been a big boozer and bar room brawler before they had married and she had tamed him; turned him into a family man but now that their family was broken she feared that he was going back to his drinking and fighting ways of his younger days.


	4. Chapter 3: Wake Up

**Sorry for the long wait, working on writing a book. I know it's a short chapter, it's a filler. Enjoy!**

**Wake Up!**

The sun had just risen, casting its bright, blinding, light over the makeshift rail town of Hell On Wheels. Chickens were scurrying about, pecking at the ground and clucking. Some whores were up and shuffling to the wash bucket behind the whorehouse to wash and scrub clothes while other whores were going to the bath house to clean up the previous night's dirt, crud, and left over cliental smell off. The freed men were emerging from their tents, located in a muddy isolated corner in the town, while most of the white men were sprawled out all over the saloon. Among those passed out from a night of drinking was Bohannon, he was slouched over a table, drooling with a half open mouth. Foreman Captain Johnson marched into the makeshift saloon and starting whipping men and yelling at them to wake up. Johnson placed a glass in front of Cullen and shouted rise and shine at him, startling him awake and causing him to knock over the shot glass with his hand.

"It's another beautiful day on the railroad." Johnson told Bohannon who just groggily stared at him while gagging. Johnson then walked off and whipped a bunch of men lying on the ground while shouting get up.

Bohannon was wobbly on his feet and nearly fell over, almost taking the table with him. Oh boy did he have a massive hangover that morning.

* * *

She woke up alone in a cold bed. She sighed and blinked away tears. She honestly didn't want to deal with a drunken and rowdy man, she had dealt with it as a newlywed many years ago and she didn't want to do it again. She silently sighed as she sat up in the bed, blinking a bit to get the sleep out of her eyes. Oh, she couldn't help but to worry about her husband and what trouble he could be getting himself into. She knew that he could let his temper get the best of him and she knew that he was one of those men that acted and spoke before he thought it through thoroughly.

After Mary got out of the small bed she put on her dress and pinned up her long hair before going to town to find where she could acquire some breakfast since Cullen had left her some money the night before and had briefly explained where the cook tent was before heading off to his night of poker and binge drinking. Once she spotted the cook tent in the middle of the dirty town she walked up to it with spoon and bowl in hand, joining the long line of people waiting to be served a sloppy looking helping of food.

"Day's buttered grits day, sure is good. Ya like buttered grits?" Mary heard a female voice behind her ask.

"Yes." Mary answered as she turned around to look at who had spoken to her. Her eyes widened a bit as she stared at the dark haired woman's blue ink chin tattoo and her scandalous attire of a red corset and a black skirt that was had a high running slit that showed off a tattered stocking clad leg.

"Name's Eva, I's a whore. Reckon ya a real fancy lady dressed like that. Don't mind me askin', why ya out 'ere?" The dark haired woman with pale skin and a chin tattoo bluntly spoke to Mary as the line moved a bit.

Mary just smiled and explained, "My husband found work on this railroad as a walking boss in charge of the freed men crew."

"Cause he Southern." Eva told Mary as they line moved ahead quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"Why he got his boss job, cause he Southern."

"Yes, he did tell me that's why he feels he was hired." Mary nodded her head as she and Eva got closer to the cook.

"So, gotta name?" Eva asked as she held her bowl in front of her so that the cook, a dirty looking fellow called Deuce, could plop food in it

"Mary, Mary Tate Bohannon." Mary told Eva as the cook plopped some loose and nasty looking grits into her bowl.

"Real fancy name; sounds like it be aristocratic or some'in." Eva told Mary as they walked away from the cook and headed towards a vacant table they spotted in the large cook tent.

"And you're just Eva?" Mary asked as she and her breakfast partner took their seats at the table they arrived at.

"Mhm." Eva nodded as she stuffed a big spoonful of runny grits in her mouth. "When I was little my family got killed by Injuns on the way to Zion." Eva told Mary as she scooped herself another big spoonful of grits. "I was taken cause I had the pox, wouldn't touch me, but my sister was raped and had her brains bashed by a rock. Parents shot up with arrows." Eva explained before shoving her spoon in her mouth.

"So you lived with them, the Indians?" Mary asked, some northern dialect slipping into her words, before eating a bite of her breakfast.

"Yea, got traded but yea." Eva nodded her head and continued to eat.

"Oh." Was all Mary could say before eating some more food.

"Your accent sounds Southern one minute Northern the next, how come?" Eva asked the proper lady that was being nice enough to sit with her, an Indian slave whore girl.

"I was raised up North in Columbus, Ohio, but married a man from Meridian, Mississippi. Cullen, my husband, inherited a tobacco farm from his father so we settled there." Mary explained to the soiled dove, who she was not judging after hearing her story about being kidnapped by Indians since she figured the girl knew no other way to survive.

"Got any chil'run?" Eva asked since Mary hadn't mentioned any kids.

Mary took a deep breath before saying, "Not anymore, but we had a boy. Mitchel died when Yankees burned ransacked the house."

"Oh, so sorry." Eva said in a soft sigh, truly sorry to hear this lady had lost her son. Eva figured the loss of the boy and what happened in the South were most likely the reasons why this woman and her husband were on the Union Pacific now.

"Yes, so am I, so am I." Was all Mary could say while nodding her head, holding back tears that threatened to fall.


End file.
